She knows it’s a silly game to be playing, and she hasn’t played it since she was about five, but there she is, murmuring he loves me, he loves me not, plucking the petals off of the flower as she tried to keep a certain curly haired college student out of her mind and attempting to think about the boy who she’s been fighting for. Finn, not Jesse. Finn, not Jesse. Finn, not Jesse. Jesse. Jesse, Jesse, Jesse. She sighs loudly, tossing the flower stalk to the ground with frustration. She knows that what she should do is forget Jesse, because he’s gone off to college and bigger and better things than Lima, Ohio, and Rachel can’t blame him for that. After all, it’s what she’s wanted since she could sing, right? She knows that she should forget him and focus on Finn, Finn who is there, who is dependable, who is slow, yes, but sweet and kind to her. Sure, he doesn’t challenge her like Jesse did, or understand her, and she finds his lack of extensive vocabulary more annoying than endearing, but he’s safe, right? And that’s what matters, right?
She sighs again, picking up another flower and glancing up at the sky. This time, the question is not whether or not he loves her, but who exactly ‘he’ is.
Jesse, Finn, Jesse, Finn…
(Source: albrightsally)
